Disclaimer: I do not own Persona 3—or any version of the Persona series, really. I just own this rather shameless piece of work.

Other Notes: Starting this chapter, almost as always, with an apology for the wait and a sincere "thank you" for your patience! The blame for the wait this time, however, lies mostly with Soundboard-kun. Why? Because he started up a mostly "what if?" session for future plot points and came across a divergent path that made us sit up and go "whoa". So we built up on it a bit, really liked what came out of it, and so built it up more. Ultimately, we were really torn about whether or not to implement it, as it would change up more than a few things not only later on down the road, but some things starting right around now.

Needless to say, we decided to tackle the challenge of overhauling because we felt you guys would like the new road better (well, for people who happen to like or at least don't mind Ryoji, at least). Thanks to real world obligations and other assorted inconveniences, it took up until very recently of a lot of back and forth bickering to get it to where we could say we can proceed again and fill in whatever blanks were still left as we went. Hopefully it was all worth it. We'll see when we get to it!

Symbiosis

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Over the course of the next week, Minato continued to subtly prod Ken while making it look completely natural with Tamamo's advice. Making eye contact accidentally-on-purpose in passing at the dorm, just to give a friendly smile before going to hang out with Junpei. A nod of acknowledgment when sitting in or entering the lounge. Occasionally asking after his day, just enough to display care but not enough to sound overbearing. Little things, to remind the boy of Minato's words and that he was really there rather than just paying lip service.

"Of course," Tamamo said wryly, "generally this is what people do normally as the bare minimum level of social interaction…"

Minato ignored the jab to his social skills with grace, though that didn't stop his Other from snickering.

But that wasn't all he was doing after his recovery. After all, he wanted to keep things natural, so a lot of the time outside of his occasional interactions with Ken, he was focusing on other things. One was keeping Junpei sufficiently occupied, subtly letting him know Minato was around to chat with and otherwise giving him another, healthier, outlet for his confusion over Chidori's betrayal than just sulking.

He also kept an eye out for Shinjiro and his health. The older boy was good at hiding it, though. Or perhaps everyone was just absorbed in their day-to-day activities and worrying about Tartarus and the Shadows that they simply didn't notice, and so Shinjiro chose to act normally so as not to distract them. Both scenarios were sad in their own ways, but Minato resolved to keep a closer eye on him.

Tamamo had said that he wasn't so far gone, but it was… difficult. Shinjiro was brusque and rude and hard to approach overall, but Minato had been on the receiving end of his rough kindness before, and had seen and heard his low-key fretting mixed into insults and bursts of annoyance. For all that he hadn't believed his Other when she first spoke of Shinjiro's softer side, Minato knew it was there—just buried deep.

To lose that… To lose any of the members of SEES and their varied quirks… He didn't want to see that happen.

(I don't want to die. I want to survive. I want to live and the others to live and is that really so selfish to ask for? Don't let me lose this, too…)

There were so many things going on that he was very slightly terrified of how the month would end.

Was he doing enough?

What else could he be doing?

Was he succeeding at what he was doing?

But as the questions continued to rise up, threatening to overwhelm him, Tamamo soothed him, her presence cradling his mind close. It was different from before, however. Before, when his negative emotions bubbled up to the surface, she had shielded him. Blunted it and let it vanish like a half-forgotten memory.

Now, when those same emotions swelled up like a cresting wave, she let it be. Her presence remained close, holding him steady as it crashed down around him. An unwavering pillar of support.

(Later, he would ask and she would tell him that it had been a mistake of hers, sheltering him in such a way. She hadn't wanted to see him in pain over anything, and so in an effort to not be useless had shielded him from such experiences. But that had only caused him trouble when he'd blocked her, nearly broke him because he'd never had to deal with such emotions before. Not for long. So now she let him be, and simply weathered through it with him.)

"I won't tell you not to worry," Tamamo said, "because I'm worried, too. But you have to know that you're doing your best. I can see that. Anyone that paid attention would see that."

He didn't reply.

"No matter what happens in the end, Minato, remember that you're doing your best. That you're only human and so you can only do so much." He felt her warmth then, all gentle sunlight and the comfort of home. "I can't promise you that everything will be all right. But we'll get through it. One way or another, we will."

(It began, ironically enough, completely on accident.)

With his mind full of worries and half-baked plans, Minato found that he couldn't sleep more often than not. Not on his own. Tamamo could help him more often than not, especially now that any scares from his head injury had faded away, but they both agreed that it was better for him to try to fall asleep on his own.

So, it was on a particularly sleepless night that Minato left his room to boil some tea again in the kitchen. The domestic action helped keep his mind occupied, at least for a while, and the tea was good for soothing his nerves.

But as he made his way into the kitchen, he stopped short when he found Shinjiro bracing himself over the sink, one hand clamped over his mouth. The older boy's body heaved and jerked under the force of the suppressed coughs, but, though he clearly knew Minato was there by the way his eyes opened briefly and met his, he couldn't seem to stop the fit.

Caught completely off guard, Minato stood, frozen, at the entrance of the kitchen, watching with wide eyes. He didn't move even when Shinjiro's coughing fit finally subsided, gaze latching on to the blood mixed with spit lingering on Shinjiro's palm until the upperclassman quickly washed it away.

"Minato…"

Jolting out of his daze, Minato blurted out the first thing he could think of. "How long has this been happening?"

Shinjiro looked at him. His expression was calm enough, but the shift in his jaw betrayed his own inner tension.

"You…" Minato faltered. It was one thing to know intellectually that Shinjiro was suffering, and another thing to hear it, muffled, through a door. But it was a completely different story to see it without any barriers, to see the pain clearly displayed on his face and the way his body tried to hold itself together for just a little longer. "That's… The blood…"

There was a snort, and then Shinjiro turned on the tap again to rinse out his mouth. When he spat the water out again, he wiped his mouth clean and said, "It's none of your business."

"W—What?"

"It's none of your business," Shinjiro repeated. He looked over then, gaze cutting into Minato's. "All right?"

"I…" Minato began, but the upperclassman's expression was unmoving. Stubborn. Briefly, Minato realized how correct Tamamo had been about Shinjiro's attitude. There would be no give. Not enough. Not in time.

Helplessly, but mind working overtime as he added to and threw out more plans, he nodded. Deliberately saying nothing about what, exactly, he was nodding for.

If he couldn't find any way to use this encounter to his advantage, then that would be that. But if he could, then he could truthfully say that he had never actually agreed to anything if he were found out. Acknowledged, sure. But outright agreement would do him little good when it could literally mean the difference between life and death for his friends.

Even if the people he was helping wouldn't thank him for it.

"You're doing your best," Tamamo spoke up, breaking the silence of their stroll through his mindscape. Or his stroll, at least. He'd dove in to get away and think for a while, and hadn't paid much attention to where he was going or when his Other showed up to join him. "As inconvenient as it is, we have to take into account that what we do will always run the chance of clashing with what choices other people make."

"I know," Minato said. The last operation was pretty much proof of that. "But I still have to do something."

Something else. Something more.

Something.

He felt Tamamo's gaze on him and he met her eyes readily, the red and blue-colored irises a little unnerving, but comforting nonetheless in their familiarity. When she blinked, returning from whatever train of thought she'd embarked on, he smiled. And she returned it, if a bit wearily.

"All right," she said, nodding. "We've given Ken time to act, to say something, but he hasn't yet. So we'll…"

Minato blinked slowly. "'We'll'…?"

For a moment, she seemed to hesitate, frowning at the ground. But then, with a little huff, she looked up again, giving him a helpless shrug. "We'll just have to make him move."

It was a strange twist of fate that Ken finally ended up approaching Minato after returning to the dorm from school, asking if they could talk. On one hand, Minato was glad for it, as it meant that the plan Tamamo had been concocting might not need to be used, which meant there would be less trauma. Probably. On the other hand, he felt wary of what the evening had in store. The month was already a little over half over, which meant that time was running out.

Thus, it was a familiar scene that found Minato kneeling in front of Koromaru in the mini-lounge on the boy's floor of the dorm. Steadying himself and his nerves as best he could before he went downstairs to meet Ken. Gazing seriously into red eyes, he said, "I'm probably going to do something terrible, Koromaru. But will you still help me?"

The shiba inu cocked his head to the side, ears perked up. Attentive. Picking up the mood in the way only an animal could and reacting to that energy. He whined, ears swiveling back slightly.

"Yeah, I don't like it either," Minato said, expression grim. "But I can't just let things go, you know? I might not…" He stopped, throat tightening. Deep breath. "I might not be able to… change what happens to me in the end, but I… I still want to try to help what I can change."

If he was really meant to die in the end, then he wanted to leave behind a legacy he could be proud of. Wanted to know he'd helped others to the best of his ability, beyond what had been expected of him. He wanted to be remembered by his friends and loved ones not for dying to become the Great Seal and protecting them in death, but for what he'd done while he lived.

Maybe it was a bit of a losing battle. He was only one person. Just a high school student. But that was how he felt, all the same.

Koromaru barked, bringing him back to the present. Blinking, Minato smiled and lifted a hand to rub the dog's head, scratching lightly at the base of his ears.

After another quick breath, he stood and headed for the stairs, Koromaru padding along behind him. "All right, then. Let's go."

The path to the Naganaki Shrine was a familiar one, which made it feel incredibly short. Still, Minato followed after his two companions, steadying his nerves as he climbed up the steps after Ken. At the top, he found Koromaru waiting, sitting on his haunches, looking over his two human teammates in an almost speculative manner. Minato patted his head and ushered him off, silently thanking him for the support as he walked over to the benches with Ken following suit.

"Don't say anything," Tamamo told him as they sat down. "He asked to talk, so let him feel he has control over the conversation. He'll speak more freely if he does. Be attentive and respond only when he prompts you to."

Right, Minato thought, but it was easier said than done. For all that he was used to keeping quiet, doing so purposefully in such an awkward, heavy silence was difficult. It didn't help that he noticed that Ken seemed to be struggling to put his thoughts to words.

It was only when Minato began to dread that the evening would be a failure that the younger boy finally spoke. "Last time we were out… you said your parents died when you were little. During the Dark Hour?"

Minato nodded, keeping his mouth tactfully shut, when Ken glanced towards him.

"And the police told you it was an accident?"

Again, Minato nodded.

The younger boy stared at him for a moment longer before averting his gaze. His brows furrowed and he swallowed once, twice, before asking, "Were they… were they sure?"

Sure?

"…Of what?" Minato asked carefully.

"The police," Ken began as he looked up again. "I mean… The people who told you that—that your parents were dead. Were they really sure that it wasn't—that it was just an accident?"

Ten years was a long time to try to remember what was said during a time that Minato had tried so desperately long throughout his childhood to put behind him. But still Minato tried anyway, as such a response would get him nowhere in this conversation.

Of course, he had Tamamo for when his memories eluded him.

"The officials said they found you outside of the wreckage of your parents' car," she informed him. "Given the state of the vehicle, all evidence at the time pointed towards it being a freak car accident, Dark Hour aside."

He relayed the information to Ken, who frowned.

"But what if it wasn't?" he asked in a low voice. His dark eyes sparked with something insistent. Desperate. "What if it wasn't an accident? What if they were killed—murdered—by someone else?"

Tamamo made a low sound, but otherwise didn't contribute, leaving it to Minato to think up a reply. He considered the boy's words, considered the circumstances behind them and the "what ifs" he was trying to impress upon him. But, in the end, he could think of only one reply, "Then they'd still be dead."

Displeasure pulled at the corners of Ken's mouth and the boy glared, body tensing as if gearing up for a fight. "But it'd be different! It wouldn't be an accident! There'd be a killer out there and—and wouldn't you want to do something about it?"

Ah, Minato thought with dawning realization. So that's why he wanted to talk.

Ken wanted to use the point of similarity in their pasts to drive a point forward. He wanted Minato to be his voice. To reflect the thoughts that had circulated throughout his mind since his mother's unfortunate death. Her murder.

It wasn't a bearing of souls but rather a desire for justification.

He wanted to be told he was right.

But Minato couldn't tell him that, and instead had to find a way to deter him.

So, he took a page from Tamamo's book of confusing and cryptic answers and said, "Yes… and no."

The triumph that flashed across Ken's face quickly faded into frustrated confusion. "…What?"

"If my parents had been murdered—" and they had been, if not quite in the way Ken expected, "—then I would want their killer to be found and be held accountable. I think anyone would in that situation."

"And if no one else would do it?" Ken asked accusingly. "If no one else believed you when you said they were killed by someone? Wouldn't you do something then?"

"It's not that simple…"

"I don't think it's that simple," Minato said, so very nearly at the same time as his Other that it surprised him for a moment, wondering if, perhaps, she'd somehow spoken through him. "Besides, I was really young then. Only six. I'd barely been able to remember the accident back then let alone a possible killer."

"But if you did?" Ken pressed. "If you knew who the killer was and if you could do something, even if you were a kid, wouldn't you?"

There was something so very sad about the boy's relentless pursuit of the subject. He was so certain in his stance, had been so dedicated to it in the other timeline that he'd gone through with it to the bitter and tragic end.

And yet, when given the chance, he'd still gone to ask Minato if the path was right.

Children needed attention, Tamamo had said. They needed affirmation.

Ken had lost that when his mother was killed. And then he had been told by the police that what he'd seen of her death wasn't true, even though he'd witnessed it firsthand. He'd lived with that knowledge, the sting of that rejection, for two years and, although he barely knew Minato, hardly had any reason to turn to him for anything… he still went and asked for that support.

It was a daunting thought, to be given that sort of regard. The weight of that trust felt heavier than the dependence SEES placed on him in battle.

And just as he did upon learning the weight of that responsibility, he took a deep breath, shoved all his thoughts and worries aside, and focused on what was important now.

"I wouldn't," he said, voice strong and clear. His "Leader" voice, as Tamamo liked to tease.

Was he resentful for what he knew now to have happened to his parents? Yes, of course. It was hard not to be, especially when it was what got him into this whole situation in the first place. But it had never crossed his mind to go over that threshold, to immerse himself fully in that anger and lose himself to hatred. It had never crossed his mind to want revenge, for his parents or even for himself.

Ken looked at him, eyes muddled with incomprehension. Then, he shot to his feet, anger thundering across his face. "But why not? If you knew their killer, then why wouldn't you do something?! I mean, why would you just let the killer go like that?" His voice went high with desperation. "Even if no one believes you, your mom was—your parents were still killed and you saw it, so you'd have to do it on your own or… or the killer goes free… You'd have to get him back and… and make him pay for what he did… wouldn't you?"

Minato waited patiently as the boy ranted himself out, feeling Tamamo's heart ache in time with his. When Ken's voice trailed off, he asked, very gently, "And then what?"

"H—Huh?"

"Revenge for revenge's sake is one thing," Minato explained, drawing on all the practice he had from leading expeditions into Tartarus to keep his voice calm and assertive, "but what about afterwards? Say that I did do something. Confronted their killer, made him pay like you said, and avenged their deaths… In the end, they'd still be dead, wouldn't they? I wouldn't be any happier. If anything, I think I'd just be even more miserable."

"I…" Ken's fists clenched as he averted his gaze. "But that's…"

Something clicked in Minato's mind then, and he knew by the spark of realization that Tamamo had had a similar thought. The memory of several nights ago drifted to the forefront, and though he hated himself for even considering it, he knew he could use it now.

"Besides," he spoke aloud before he could back down from it, "there's a chance it would just be a hollow victory anyway."

The young brunet looked like he almost didn't want to hear it, but he was compelled to inquire anyway. "…What do you mean?"

"Well, if their killer happened to be just a Shadow, then that's self-explanatory. There wouldn't be much use getting revenge against a creature that doesn't really understand the concept of murder." Not that Pharos was just anything. But the principle still applied. "Otherwise… it's been ten years. A person could forget what happened easily in that time. Revenge would be meaningless against someone who couldn't even remember enough of what they'd done. It's… also possible that that person is already dead or dying."

"But what if you know he remembers?" Ken muttered. "And that he's not dead or dying?"

"You can't always know that," Minato said gently, pretending to ignore the specific pronouns the younger boy used. Inwardly, his mind was racing. "Sometimes people have bad conditions or illnesses that they might not even know about. Even people that seem healthy on the outside. Like…"

For a while, silence filled the space between them. But eventually Ken looked up at him. Weary, a little betrayed, but still curious. "Like…?"

Minato felt a pang at the look he received, but managed a small, if painful, smile. He'd known what he was getting into, and knew what other confidences he would break in the next few moments. "Like Senpai."

Alarm quickly filled the younger boy's face, color leaching out of his already pale skin. "S—Senpai? Which…?"

It was easy to pretend to interpret the expression as concern. Still, Minato ducked his head and hunched his shoulders almost defensively. Bracing himself. "It's… It's Aragaki-senpai."

There was an ominous silence.

"Keep going," Tamamo said quickly, "give him more details. Hurry!"

"You can't tell anyone," Minato rushed to get out in response. "I just… I saw him the other night. He was… It looked like he was in a lot of pain. I thought maybe he was just sick and had a really bad cough, but… he coughed out blood."

"No…" Ken's voice trembled. "That's… That's not…"

Minato shrugged helplessly, once more pretending to read Ken's reaction differently. "I don't know how bad it is, but… it looked bad."

Whether the boy knew it or not, he was shaking his head and taking small steps back. Minato cautiously rose from the bench after him, but the moment he stood up Ken bolted like a frightened deer.

"I have to go!" he shouted as he dashed across the shrine grounds.

"Ken!" Minato called, but the boy took no heed, continuing straight down the staircase. Cursing, Minato ran after him. "Koromaru!"

The shiba inu barked from somewhere off to the side and behind him, and there was a scraping noise of paws and claws hitting the ground before Koromaru quickly caught up.

"Go with Ken!" Minato ordered as he started down the stairs. Ken was already more than halfway down. "Stay with him!"

Koromaru barked again as if in affirmation before bounding away, catching up to the younger boy with enviable ease. They reached the street and Ken seemed to flounder for a moment when the streetlight barred him from crossing. But it changed as Minato was still descending, and both the boy and dog crossed over with other stragglers of the evening, leaving him behind.

Reaching the bottom step, Minato hoped that Ken was heading back to the dorm as much as he dreaded what would occur there should the boy run into Shinjiro so soon after the shocking news. But if he didn't and went elsewhere, then at least he wouldn't be alone should the Dark Hour fall before Minato could get the others suitably informed and ready to search.

But God, this was looking bad!

"You can say that again," Tamamo said, her voice cutting through the chaotic mess of his thoughts. "Though I'd say it's more likely for Ken to go to the dorm—he's a rather quiet and private boy so he won't go out when he's upset. And if he does want to throw down, he doesn't know where Shinjiro hangs out at this time, while it's more or less guaranteed Shinjiro will return to the dorm eventually."

That's not helping!

"Only because you need to calm down," she said sternly. "Yes, it's bad, but I don't think it's as bad as it could be."

How do you figure that? Minato asked as he shifted impatiently, waiting for the light to change again. Because that looked really bad to me!

"If you think about it, Ken ultimately retreated. He didn't lash out at you even if he didn't like what you said," she reasoned."He's still thinking, which is good. It's when people stop thinking that things tend to go wrong."

Minato found himself starting to relax a bit more despite himself. He rolled his shoulders to loosen up the tension in his muscles a bit as he crossed the street, steadily picking up the pace again. But too much thinking can be a bad thing, can't it?

He would know. And so would she, for that matter.

"Too much of anything can be a bad thing," Tamamo conceded. "For now, just head back to the dorm and we'll see what Ken chose to do. We'll pick our next move then."

The final steps into the dorm had never been as foreboding as that moment as Minato quickly climbed up, heart pounding. He took a moment to brace himself before opening the door.

"Ah! There he is!" Yukari's voice rang out the moment he crossed the threshold. To his relief, it seemed that only she and Junpei were currently occupying the space, with none of the seniors in sight (and, hopefully, the building). "Minato-kun!"

"Dude, what happened?" Junpei asked from the couch, sounding bewildered. "Ken burst in a while ago with Koromaru and just ran up to his room. Slammed the door and everything! Did you guys have a fight or something?"

Minato cringed. "…Or something."

A part of him wanted to sag in relief, however small. Ken was likely a mess, but at least he was in the dorm.

"Oh no, Ken-kun comes in like that—there's way more than just 'or something'!" Yukari crossed the lounge floor to stand in front of Minato, folding her arms over her chest. Her signature glare was fixed on her face. "You've got to give us more information than that. So spill, mister!"

Minato cast a glance at Junpei, who provided no help whatsoever beyond a wide-eyed look, a shrug, and a hand gesture with a meaning that was entirely lost on him. "Um…"

Tamamo whispered a quick excuse, and Minato gladly latched onto it.

"It's not really my place to say," he said apologetically. "At least not right now. It's up to Ken."

That seemed to get to both of the other teens. Yukari's posture loosened.

"You sure?" she asked, brows furrowed uncertainly. "You'd tell us if it was something really big, right?"

"We might not be much help, but we could probably do something," Junpei chipped in. Then, he gave a lopsided grin. "Like how we helped Yuka-tan back in Yakushima! What'd you call it, man? Team bonding or something?"

"More like a pity party," Yukari muttered. "But seriously, Minato-kun. If you need help or anything… well, we're here, y'know?"

That… That was different.

Not an unpleasant difference, but certainly… different.

Minato blinked, but the warmth that spread at the offer was genuine. "I know." And he did, even though there were a good many secrets he was still keeping from them all, save perhaps Fuuka. "I'll tell you when I can, so…"

Yukari nodded, looking relieved. "We'll be here." She shot a look to the side. "Right, Stupei?"

"Yep!" Junpei chirped. And then frowned. "Hey! I told you to stop calling me that!"

"Oh, did you?"

"Yuka-tan!"

"Tell me again what grade you got after we all did all that studying together?"

"Oh, c'mon! Will you let that die already!?"

"We did lightning rounds just to get the information drilled into your thick head and you go and throw it away!"

The bickering was much more familiar and Minato couldn't help but smile as he let it chase him up the stairs, but it soon fell as he saw Koromaru sitting diligently in front of the door to Ken's room. Standing at the mini-lounge, he called quietly for the shiba inu and knelt when the dog approached, alternately rubbing and petting his head in gratitude.

"Thank you. It wasn't necessary in the end, but I felt a lot better knowing you'd be with him if it was needed," he murmured, eyes drifting to Ken's door.

Koromaru whined, lowering his head and moving closer to butt it against Minato's chest.

Sighing, Minato rubbed down the shiba inu's back and side. "Yeah. Looks like I ended up saying something bad after all…"